Unforgotten
by Flight Hikari
Summary: Centuries after Rin passed away, Sesshoumaru is once again travelling alone. But when the ghost of a very familiar youth haunts him, he begins to wonder is she really does means him harm.
1. The end

**_A once one-shot, now hopefully turning into a much longer story. _**

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It was sixty years after Rin had first caught sight of the wounded, paralysed Taiyoukai, resting almost lifeless on the forest floor. She had not know why excatly she had attempted to help him, even when he made it clear that it was not possible. Having lost her own family, she guessed that she knew what it felt like to be alone, hurt, without anyone to help you and heal your wounds, on both body and mind. _Where was his family? Is he alone ... like me? Why does he not call for help? Is he afraid he will not recieve it?_

Even now, as an old woman, she viewed that day as the best day in her life, the turning point. It was by far, the best thing that could possibly happen to her, and she looked back on it as fate. What else could of let her stumble on the one time when the Lord of the Western Lands was not going to kill her on sight? Yet fate was and is also cruel, for the one man she fell in love with was the one who could never love her back.

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Rin had a normal human life for around ten years of her childhood – harsh and cold though the last years may be, it was not counted out of the ordinary. But then, for more then half a century she had followed obediently at the heel of the great Lord Sesshoumaru, giving up any chances of coming to a home, and greeting a husband and children of whom she may call her own. Of settling down in one place, not having to face the hardships and dangers of constantly moving. Of waking up next to loved ones and being assured that today would not be her last.

At first it had been harmless and childish idolization, which grew into an almost shameful crush of a young woman. But when she grew older true love blossomed, yet it was unrequited. He could never love her back. She was after all, only human.

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The snow came spinning down, soft flurries of frozen tears descending from the heavens. It was not a blizzard, yet neither was it considered weak, a soft coating of ice crystal flakes. The ground lay deserted, as humans huddled together in their tiny huts in a pathetic attempt of keeping themselves from freezing. The distant sun was rising, drenching the lands in a vivid yet bitterly cold light. And as one country looked up and were glad to see another morning, different countries were plunged into the darkness of night. A chill wind swept through an honest and simple wooden hut, which contained only one room. And into that room he swept regally, looking as out of place as the sun would in the shadows of night time. Standing outside he could clearly hear the painful rasping breath coming from an old and frail woman, and now his demonic hearing listened to the death laced on her breathing. A few hours maybe, and her soul will of left its prison of flesh and journey upward, rising to realms unknown to even the most powerful demon and the wisest of human monks.

With his face of no emotions, he watched the woman until she finally woke one last time, and opened her large brown eyes, looking weakly at the man looming over her, glad to see him, the last time she will see him.

"Sesshoumaru." She whispered, voice hoarse and strangely quiet, for he was used to it being loud and full of life. Over the years she had used his name in many different meanings, a greeting, a warning, an expression of wordless joy and love. It had meant so much, and now the 'owner' could tell exactly what she wished for.

"Do not worry. I am not leaving." His deep voice replied, softly, royally, lacking emotion yet so sincere and trustworthy that the woman calmed instantly.

"It's been so long." She managed to whisper, voice already going. "Two more months and it will be sixty years, and you are exactly the same as you were then." She was cut short with a coughing fit, and in one smooth movement he was beside her, and for once unsure of what to do, although he never showed it. Never being in this predicament before in his millennium old life, he finally grasped hold oh her hand and brought it up to his chest. He could feel the warmth seep out of it, and only coldness took its place. Rin way dying, and like a huge old tree he stood, proudly above a tiny flower, once the prettiest thing that had burst in a display of life, yet now gone and withered.

As darkness covered her vision, long lost memories resurfaced and played in Rin's mind – her family, smiling, laughing, greeting her at the end of each day. The stoic and seemingly uncaring demon, her lord and protector. Jaken, squawking insults. Her lord again, invincible in her childish eyes, as he rescued her time and time again. Looking back now, she vaguely remembered that almost all of her memories were consisted of him, or at least to do with him. He had always been there in her time of need, and here he was now.

Looking once more into the face that would be her last view, and listening to the voice that would be the last thing she ever heard, she realized just what the Taiyoukai had said.

"I am sorry, and thank you, Rin." His words echoed in her ears, sounding like they had been said from the end of a impossibly long tunnel, and with the last of her ebbing strength she managed a smile, and was no more. A single tear formed in the demon lord's molten eyes, but a split second later was gone, cleaned from existance with a single blink, and never reappeared.

-----

Centuries passed, and Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands did find a demon mate. She was kind, although they never truly loved each other. Together they re-built the lost line of dog taiyoukai, as he saw was his responsibility. He became a mighty lord, and was feared and respected by all, demon or mortal. No one knew of the little girl who had the honour of travelling with him, save Jaken and his half breed brother, and her name passed out of memory. Not even his mate knew about her, although it was true that she knew little on his past. But he, the Lord of the Western Lands, never did forget that one naive human girl, who had such a little impact on his life, yet one whom he could never bring himself to forget.

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_**Well that's the prologue done. Hope you like it, and please review! I live of reviews!  
**_


	2. Old beginning

I know it's stupid of me, but one day, I woke up and decided to extend my one-shot, Unforgotten, into a full-length story. The only problem? I don't have anything worked out yet, except a vague plot line …

Sesshoumaru's mate is not going to appear many times in this story, if any. I don't want to be sent death threats _that _often. She's not a self-insert, or anyone special. I doubt they even love each other anyway. The immortality thing is shamelessly copied from 'The Last Unicorn'.

I forgot to add this in my first chapter. Rumiko randomly walking into my house, handed me all the InuYasha characters and walked out again. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention she said I was a horribe liar as well? No, really.

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It was morning, and yet another dawn found Sesshoumaru trekking silently along a nearly invisible forest path. It was clearly outside his territory, but that had never stopped him before. He was alone – Jaken having passed away only a decade ago, old and withered, but extremely happy. He had got his wish; to build an empire with his beloved master, and had lived long, even for his own kind. Sesshoumaru had not seen in years that empire though – along with his mate, Michiko. But she was sensible, and knew how to rule almost a quarter of Japan quite well enough without his help. Better, even. She had not his quick temper, lack of patience and love of outdoors, that practically no one knew of. Why else would he be out here, when everyone in his place would be safe and comfortable in his richer then royal palace. He made a mute and invisible sigh, lips not moving more then a millimetre. The lesser youkai population was more then last week, stronger ones less. He mulled over the thought, reminded briefly of an event around a century ago – a huge and powerful youkai had chased out all the youkai in a small territory in the Eastern lands. Larger, more powerful youkai had flocked there, all hoping to kill the youkai and become famous. Of course, it not being in his lands, Sesshoumaru had not bothered about it, doing no more then regularly checking to see if it was coming to his territory.

Was this time like last? He found that most of the youkai were from the south, but many were from elsewhere. Was there an actual threat now? He doubted it – since that hanyou, Naraku, was dead, there had not been anything in the least bit threatening for centuries. Maybe InuYasha's head had swollen enough that the youkai population was running out there to try to exterminate him. Or at least deflate his swelled ego. Sesshoumaru stretched out the fingers in his left hand, listening to them click. Smiling inwardly, he enjoyed the feel of having his arm back. It had, over the centuries, grown back and was now just as good as his old arm, if not better.

Thoughts darted back and forth, from a particularly ugly youkai he had met just before, to what looked like an oncoming war between two tribes of human in his territory. Not that he minded the humans killing each other – that was a good thing – but how much damage would it do to the countryside, and would it attract even more youkai, coming to feed off the large numbers of humans in one place? That would be irritating; hundreds of lesser youkai running all over the place trying to claim a bit of land for themselves.

Sesshoumaru sighed mentally. His mate had mentioned that maybe it would be best if he went in and got rid of one of the armies … or both. It would certainly save a lot of bother in the long run, but he was nowhere near them, and it would take at least two days to reach there, running all the way in his true form. He would just let them work it out between themselves, and clean up the mess later.

His thoughts flicked back to his mate, probably sitting at home in some incredible boring meeting with a group of equally tedious and arrogant youkai. He did not envy her.

Michiko was a Taiyoukai like him, also dog, but a lot weaker – her strongest attack probably could only destroy Sesshoumaru's light whip, but she was faster, lither and more agile. The new lady of the western lands had more white then silver hair however, and it reached just to the middle of her back. Yellowish orange eyes seemed to stay in a constant expression of calm and annoying motherly understanding, while single maroon stripes lay across her cheeks. She was a little less then a head shorter then he, and many had requested to be her mate. Too bad the one she chose did not want it. Truly, Sesshoumaru had accepted only because she was tolerable, and the nearby youkai population had been breathing down his neck for around a century, practically telling him in his face that if he did not produce an heir, there would be a threat of invasion. The western lands were large, and valuable – many had their eyes on it, human or youkai. Still, any thoughts of even his mate bearing his child was about as welcome as paying his hanyou brother a welcome visit in a town full of humans, laden with flowers and words of forgiveness and apology. Not that there was anything to apologize about.

One thing led to another, and through a storm of memories, painful and loved, one mortal girl shone above all others. Yet he, Sesshoumaru, was practically immortal – nothing could best him in strength, power, wisdom, there was no danger of him being killed, yet the span of life for dog Taiyoukai had never been lived to it's full before. Never had one died of old age, and all had lived ranging from just a century to five millennium. He had heard that in time he could easily defeat even his father, the great lord InuTashio, if he were still alive.

But the mortal he remembered was just that – mortal, or at least physically. Her body was no more, her mind long gone. Yet she remained, untarnished in his memories, and would stay there for as long as he remained. He had his immortality, and so she had hers.

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Treading lightly through and past weaving vines, clinging to each other and the sombre trees, towering over the dirt path, the Lord of the Western lands looked fleetingly at a flower, delicate and alone, standing silently to one side. Immediately he remembered something he could of sworn that he did not know just a minute ago. An image of Rin, his little _human _girl, picking that same flower and reaching up to hand it to him, all those centuries ago. He had moved to pick it up, when the bitter Northern wind picked it up and blew it out of her hand and into the forest.

"Away …" Rin whispered, and the memory faded and was gone, leaving Sesshoumaru alone in the pathway, the tiny white flower gone without trace.


End file.
